Confessions of a PureBlood Slytherin
by Cinderelly0087
Summary: There was a time before Harry, a time even before Dumbledore. A time when a man named Phineas Nigelas was the headmaster of Hogwarts. Looking back, he is seen to be one of the worst headmasters Hogwarts has ever had. However, he was seen to be a God to ev


**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the characters/names that you may recognize from JK Rowling's stories. Also, I don't exactly know where the term "confessions of…" came from, but I don't own that either…

**Summary:** There was a time before Harry, a time even before Dumbledore. A time when a man named Phineas Nigelas was the headmaster of Hogwarts. Looking back, he is seen to be one of the worst headmasters Hogwarts has ever had. However, he was seen to be a God to every Slytherin who went their, every Slytherin but me.

**Rating:** PG—for some language

**August 21, 1838**

I am a disgrace to my family. I know that not only because I am reminded of it practically every day, but because I know that I am quite different from them. I am lucky to have been sorted into Slytherin; otherwise they would have most probably disowned me. Sometimes, however, I wish I would've been sorted into Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, by God I would've even taken Hufflepuff! Being in Slytherin comes with such a reputation; I am supposed to loathe muggle-borns, when truly I find they are not so bad, and we cannot marry anyone who is not in our class.

For, as I am constantly reminded, being pure-blood is the highest class of all. We are above the filthy half-bloods, half-breeds, blood-traitors, and, most of all, mudbloods. No Minister of Magic, has been anything but pure-blood, and that's way my family intends it to stay. According to my parents, who are often wrong, my brother was on his way to becoming the next Minister of Magic. Don't see how he can accomplish that, seeing as he only got five OWLs last year. However, he can be as ambitious as he wishes, it's the only good quality us Slytherins have, right?

We're going shopping for school supplies tomorrow. Although my siblings can hardly wait, I'm really dreading it. You see, ever since last year, when I started questioning the morals of a pure-blooded witch or wizard, my parents have been treating me like scum and calling me a disgrace to the pure-blood race. That summer my parents treated me like a servant and made me carry all the bags and gave me last choice on everything. They would never buy me second-hand. For my family, practically being royalty within the wizarding race, would only disgrace itself by buying me used things.

Yours,

Alicia May Malfoy

**August 30, 1838**

Thank God that it's the thirtieth. Only one more day until I finally get to get out of this damn manor and go to school. I don't know why I still call it a manor, probably because I have this vision of my father beating me with a cane every time I used to call it a house when I was little. That still scares the hell out of me. My older brother, Malabar, claims that Father used to beat him with a belt with spikes on it. I doubt it though, Malabar was always Father's favorite—after all, he's going to become Minister of Magic, isn't he? God! I'd commit suicide before I saw him ruling the Magical World.

Anyways, our time in Diagon Alley was a complete disaster! It started out with Kale sleeping in and me getting blamed for it—I'm blamed for everything these days. This time his accusation was that "I should have woken them up!" As if, Kale should be responsible for his own actions, otherwise, my father should have gotten up off his ass and woken him up himself. I swear, Kale and Natty better be perfect kids, or else, the rest of my life will be completely miserable.

While in Diagon Alley, Natty wanted to get ice cream and I needed to stock up on potions so that I didn't fail the class. We only had time to do one more thing. Guess which one my father chose? If you know anything about my dad, you'll know the answer to the question right now. Yes, he chose to buy ice cream for Natty.

Natty joyfully went up to the counter and told the young witch and said "Could I have a scoop of raspberry peanut-butter crunch please?"

"Of course." The lady said, nodding affirmatively and scooping her up a large amount of ice cream and putting it in the cone. Next, Kale ordered chunky chocolate and Malabar ordered pistachio-mint. Pistachio-mint—I find the flavor absolutely abhorring, but who ever said that Malabar had good tastes.

I then went up to order my ice cream when my father put his wand out in front of me to stop me from reaching the counter. He said, and I'm quoting his exact words here, "Alicia, you're looking a bit plump; maybe you better refrain from eating any ice cream today." He said it loudly enough so that the whole store could hear, and it was quite busy, mind you. When I felt every single pair of eyes in the store, pointed in my direction, I could feel my face growing hot. I didn't know what to do, so I did the only thing I could do. I ran out of the store and into the nearest lou.

I cried there for what felt like hours until Natty came in and yelled "Ally, Daddy says he's going to leave if you don't get your but out here soon!" Damn, Nat the Prat, if she only could've given me one more moment's piece, Katherine Flint wouldn't have seen me all teary. Katherine would be a fifth year and liked to tell everybody everything she found out. I would bet my life on the fact that the day I returned to school, everybody would be talking about my little tantrum in Diagon Alley. Well, maybe not my life, I would bet Natty's life on it though. Then again, that isn't worth much.

Yours,

Alicia May Malfoy

**August 31, 1838**

It's ten and the train won't leave for another hour. Muggles have recently invented a type of train that runs quite differently from ours and now there is a train station where ours used to be. The Ministry, despite being pure-blooded, is also very smart. They were able to hide our station so that you can only access it by walking through the barriers between platforms nine and ten at the muggle station. Mum and dad think it's useless—they claim we should "just blow the station up and tell those damn muggles to get the hell away from us!"

Don't know if that would go over so well, however. Considering the fact that muggles don't know we exist. Oh well, the ministry's not as stupid as my family is. You see why we can't have my brother as Minister?

I'm actually considering renouncing my family completely. I don't know, it just seems that I'm so different from them that it just seems pointless to try and get along with them. The only problem is I'm only in my sixth year. Next summer, I'm going to live in a place where I can eat and sleep. For I know that the moment I begin to disobey them completely they will send me to the streets. Granted I do have some money—a thousand galleons to be exact. That should be enough to buy a place, but I'm going to need to get a job next summer if I'm counting on being able to eat. Oh well, I think about that later, I'm not even sure what I want to do yet. I know one thing, however, it's bad to have the Malfoys as your enemy.

Yours,

Alicia May Malfoy

**August 31, 1838**

Do you believe in love at first sight? I've always been a hopeless romantic; I think it runs in my family. I can never remember being anything but a cynic when it came to relationships, I always broke them off after about a week, scared to go to deeply and get hurt. My parents aren't happy; they are two alike to be anything close to that. No half-blood's parents are happy, they are a muggle and a wizard or a witch, two different to be able to get along. And certainly the parents of a half-breed could be filled with nothing but anxiety, after all their child is a bloody monster.

That's what I have always thought, until now. I know that you can't judge a book by it's cover or a person when you meet them, but I really think that I am in love. This guy is a seventh year with red hair and freckles. I recognized him at once as a Weasley. They are a pure-blood, moderately rich family, but they fraternize with the muggle-borns and they are therefore loathed in our society.

He was so polite though, and nice, and handsome and…I don't know. But I want to get to know him better. His name is Eric Weasley. He's head boy, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and a perfect role model. He's someone that I would generally not generate an interest in.

Regardless, I think that I have finally made up my mind. Getting to know Eric better means disowning my family. For even though he may not be the one for me, I'm not holding myself back by not going after what I want. Most people will have to step out of the comfort zone and tread in waters they are unfamiliar with it. This is one of those times for me. For if there's one thing I've learned from my family it's if you know there's something you want, you have to get it yourself.

Good-bye family!

Good-bye pure-bloods!

Good-bye being shrined!

Hello Eric!

Hello mudbloods muggle-borns!

Hello FREEDOM!

Yours,

Alicia May Malfoy

**A/N:** Okay, please tell me what you think! I really want to know what you thought of this one! Also, in your reviews, note if you want me to keep going or not. I think that this could either be a one-shot or a novelette (I just learned that there was such a thing today!  Okay, I feel stupid!) So, please review and let me know. If you say yes, I'll try to write and post the next chapter as soon as possible!


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